This just appeared in the San Francisco Guardian. I like it, it’s funny and not scary. I enjoyed this show last night, we only had 50 turn up but the weather was AWFUL and my Paul Smith trousers (new, black, gorgeous) were soaked by the time I arrived. But the crowd was mostly into it, and I did loads of new stuff; I even paid homage to Bhutto. Poor dead (CRAZY, CORRUPT but our only chance for balance) bitch. I cried all day about her death. Then I did the gay jokey dance. No wonder I’m alone. And what’s up with Catherine Tate being called a racist? How come suddenly everyone is now labeled ‘racist’, except people who actually are racist? Bush has given racism a very bad name. Comics be warned. Anyway…

COMEDY

“Scott Capurro’s Dirty Gift”

Scott Capurro, a gay comedian from Daly City, probably gets his inspiration elsewhere. He is a world traveler and somehow manages to make trite subjects like mothers, hotel rooms, gangs, and being heckled seem freshly funny. When Christmas — the least funny day of the year — is two days gone, you can finally say the f-word again without checking behind you for your precociously sailor-mouthed young cousin or your selectively keen-eared great-aunt. And Capurro, a master of deadpan comedy and a professional in the fields of gut-busting hilarity and subtle wit, will let the vulgarities fly. He’ll make you feel like yourself again — your fucked-up, cynical, hedonistic, perfectly well-balanced self. (Amy Glasenapp)

And I say, hurrah!!! (that part is actually me, saying that, to myself. and to you.)